


Hair

by Shhittymatsu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shhittymatsu/pseuds/Shhittymatsu
Summary: It was the end of the Qing Dynasty, Yao's boss wanted to give Yao a haircut. Yao aggressively refused when he has never disobeyed his bosses before.It's just hair, right?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Hair

"It's just a haircut." Yao's boss said as he inched his scissors closer to Yao's long black locks. Yao immediately slapped his boss' hand away, which caused the scissors to fall to the floor. "Don't touch me." Yao hissed at him, his eyes filled with anger and sadness.

This wasn’t like Yao at all. Yao has never disobeyed his bosses over the past five thousand years. Dynasty after dynasty, Yao has encountered a myriad of different bosses with different ideals of what his home should look like and what his people wanted. Yao obeyed their every word and command without a second thought, even if some of them were foolish or just straight up wrong. He didn't feel any guilt for not questioning them. After all, it was his duty to obey his bosses. So why was Yao disobeying now? Why over _this_?

"It's just hair!" Yao's boss yelled as he leaned down to grab the scissors once again.

_It's not just hair._ Yao thought to himself. His jaws were clenched so tight in anger that he felt his teeth grinding against each other. _It was never just hair._ Yao's boss may not remember but he did. To Chinese people, hair meant identity. Both male and female alike, his people wore their jet black hair long for centuries, never cutting it. Hair was more than just dead cells, it was a gift. Many moons ago, Confucius once told Yao that the hair of Chinese people was a gift from their parents. Such a gift was to be treated with the utmost respect. As the years passed, his people treated uncut hair as a sense of cultural identity. To them, hair was precious and cutting hair was one of the greatest sins. 

Regardless of dynasty, Yao kept his hair long and neatly tied in a bun. He loved his hair. He spent countless hours in his life brushing it and working out the tangles. Every morning, he would carefully brush each and every strand. Every morning, he would gently tie his hair into a bun neatly as many of his people did. He treated his beautiful uncut long hair with the utmost care. Knowing full well that he had no parents, he believed his hair was a gift from the gods. 

That changed when the Manchurians attacked and took over China. Another dynasty came and went, which Yao was used to. However, this time it was different. The Manchurians wanted to force his men into shaving the front part of their heads. "As a sign of humiliation." The new boss said. Yao still remembered how his heart stung when he heard those words. His new boss knew full well what hair meant to him and his people and he used this gift against them. Shaving their head as a symbol of their complete and total defeat. Of course Yao protested, his people did too. However, as the years went on, the shaved head with the long braid became a tradition and people stopped protesting. Yao stopped protesting too. _What's the use?_ The long uncut hair pulled neatly into a bun became a faint memory for the next three hundred years. 

“Why are you being so difficult?” Yao’s boss screamed. “This is the only way for us to be taken seriously by the Western powers.” 

_Like they will ever see us as equals_ . Yao thought bitterly. Towards the end of the Qing Dynasty, Western nations came to Yao’s home in large numbers, seeking the large amount of riches that his home had to offer. At the same time, many European missionaries also entered into Yao’s home. They wanted to introduce Christianity to his people. “To save the savages”, Yao heard them say. Yao remembered the look in those Europeans’ eyes, filled with elitism and hatred. Yao also recalled how those Europeans would constantly write in their journals, describing how uncivilized his people were, how strange their customs were, and how needed it was for Europeans to intervene to reform these poor brown people. “For God”, they often wrote. _For God._ Yao scoffed. _Sure, if your God is greed._

During the following years, Yao’s boss was unable to keep up with the Western powers in military strength and Yao watched his home get torn apart by the Europeans. Those European powers picked and chose his land like spoiled children at a candy store, selfish and merciless. Yao was weak and desperate. His boss was too. Maybe that was why his boss wanted him to cut his hair. If he cut it, he would look more like those Europeans, maybe even be treated as one. _It’s foolish and desperate._ Yao thought to himself. _They would never treat me as anything more than an uncivilized savage._

_Snip snip_

Yao’s eyes widened as he felt the cold metal of scissors against his head. He felt a weight lifted off the back of his head as his long beautiful black braid fell to the ground with a thump. Tears started to stream down his face, but he felt nothing as his boss cleaned up the ends of his now short hair. 

There was nothing left. His gift from the gods was taken.


End file.
